


Play Nice

by a_cascade



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Neck Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_cascade/pseuds/a_cascade
Summary: Thermite discovers that there's more than one way to relieve stress.
Relationships: Mike "Thatcher" Baker/Jordan "Thermite" Trace
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Play Nice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all. It's been a while since I've posted a Siege fic but I'm back. Here's a Thatchmite smut fic because there's not nearly enough content for this ship. Enjoy!
> 
> Update 1/28/20: Fixed some typos and the spacing, story should read smoother now.

Maverick ducked to avoid Thermite’s jab and retaliated with his own, catching the other man in the shoulder. Thermite grunted and backed off, correcting his guard. Maverick stayed on the offensive and followed. His strikes were fast and relentless. Thermite reacted too slowly and took a kick to the hip, causing him to stumble. He swung wide, too wide, and Maverick punished him for it by throwing a quick jab straight to his chest while his guard was down.

“You’ve gotta get outta your head, Trace,” Maverick said as he blocked another one of Thermite’s punches. Maverick gets low and does a sweeping kick that knocks Thermite off his feet and onto his back. Thermite groaned. Everything hurt. Maverick stood over him and offered him a hand. “Let’s call it a day. Pick this back up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” Thermite took his hand and Maverick pulled him to his feet. His whole body was sore, but he needed this. It was as good a distraction as any, he supposed. He walked over to the bench at the far side of the room and plopped down with a sigh. He fumbled around in his duffel bag until he found his towel and threw it over his head to catch the sweat. He leaned against the wall with a groan. He wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a nap. The bench shifted beneath him as someone sat down next to him.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

He snatched the towel off his face. Thatcher snorted as he watched the other man try to compose himself. “Surprised to see me?” Thatcher said with a knowing smile. Thermite ran a hand through his damp hair.

“What are you doing here?” Thermite asked. He looked the other man over. Thatcher was wearing loose-fitting civilian clothes instead of a uniform. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. “I thought you’d still be with Maestro.” Thermite crossed his arms and pointedly looked away from the man.

“Maestro’s gone back to Italy for now. Alibi, too. We won’t be seeing them again for a while.” Thatcher looked the American over and noticed his composure “Don’t tell me—are you jealous?” He snorted.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous that my man spent the day with someone else?”

“Oh, you _are_ jealous.” Thatcher slid closer to him then and leaned in to whisper low in his ear. “ I didn’t think you were the type. It’s kind of sexy.” Thermite shivered. Every hair on the nape of his neck stood on end. His breath hitched as Thatcher’s hand slid onto his thigh.

“ _Mike!_ ” Thermite whispered in alarm. He gripped Thatcher’s hand to still his motions. His face was burning.“What are you doing? Someone might come by.”

“No one here but us, love.” Thatcher slid closer on the bench. His other arm slid under the back of his shirt and up his back. Thatcher’s cool hands felt like heaven on his hot skin. Thermite looked around and concluded that they were, in fact, alone in the training room. It still didn’t change the fact that the world’s most attractive man was trying to fondle him in a public space. Thatcher leaned in to kiss him but he stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Don’t, I’m all sweaty.” Thermite complained.

“Then come shower in my room.” Thatcher leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He winked at the other man when he started stammering.

Once Thermite had shoved everything back into his bag Thatcher led him down the hall to his quarters. This corner of the base was reserved for distinguished officers, those who had served with Rainbow for a long time. Thatcher’s quarters were a lot roomier than the typical operator’s, which was particularly nice as he didn’t have to share the space with anyone. The bed was also bigger, wide enough for two people to sleep comfortably.

Thermite helped himself to Thatcher’s shower. The Brit had a surprising assortment of shampoos under his sink. Thermite picked the first one he saw. The hot water helped soothe his aching muscles and once he emerged from the bathroom he felt a lot more relaxed.

Thatcher didn’t even give him a moment to set his stuff down before he was shoving him back up against the bathroom door, lips on his neck devouring him. He gripped the back of Thermite’s thighs and hoisted him up, fingers digging into his flesh as he elicited gasps from his partner. Thermite buried his hands in Thatcher’s short hair and tugged. He yelped when Thatcher smacked his thigh, hard.

“Play nice.” Thatcher whispered against his skin. He buried his nose in Thermite’s hair. “Is this my shampoo?”

“I... thought it smelled nice.” Thermite flushed.

“You do smell nice.” Thatcher kissed below his ear and he craned his neck to the side to give him better access.

Thatcher lifted him from the door and carried him across the room. He held onto for dear life until the back of Thatcher’s knees hit the bed and he sat back onto the bed with a grunt, pulling Thermite down with him. 

Thermite sighed and leaned back on his thighs with his legs straddled on either side of Thatcher’s. He ran his hands over the other man’s broad shoulders, feeling his muscles ripple beneath his shirt. One of Thatcher’s hands slid up his thigh, the other slid up the front of his shirt. Thatcher rolled a nipple between his fingers until the peak was hard and sensitive. Thermite bit his lip hard to keep in the moan that threatened to slip from his lips. The hand on his thigh slid up and Thatcher palmed him through his shorts. He was already so hard.

“That’s it, love. Just relax.” Thatcher pressed a kiss to his neck and sucked on the spot, the hairs of his beard rubbing against his skin. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers teased the waistband of Thermite’s short before finally freeing his cock. Already precum was leaking from the head. Thermite bit his lip. He couldn’t believe he was this needy.

“Fuck,” Thermite hissed and bucked into the warmth of Thatcher’s hand. His grip tightened on his partner’s shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. He flicked open the top two buttons of Thatcher’s shirt and pushed the collar open. He licked a stripe up his lover’s neck and heard Thatcher’s breathing speed up. Thatcher rolled his thumb over the head and Thermite whimpered. “God, that’s so good.” Thatcher repeated the motion just to draw that sound from him again. The American quickly came undone in his arms, practically trembling at even touch. 

“Mike... I’m so close, I—” His breath hitched in his throat, warmth pooled in his belly as he arched his back and—

Nothing came, but he still felt the pressure in his balls. Thatcher stroked him light and agonizingly slow. He tried shifting to gain more friction but it was a losing battle. The Brit kissed him just below his ear affectionately and chuckled.

“You bastard,” Thermite squirmed in his grip. “You gonna let me get my rocks off or what?”

All protests died in his throat as Thatcher quickened his pace again. His grip was tight and hot as he milked all kinds of delicious sounds from Thermite. He could feel himself approaching the edge again and chased the high, breath catching in his throat as he nears the edge and—

Thatcher fucking chuckled.

Thermite growled and pushed Thatcher onto his back. He pinned his arms above his head, not giving the other man enough time to respond before he crushed their lips together in a searing kiss. Thatcher strained against the hands keeping him pinned and rolls his hips up into Thermite’s, grinding his hard cock against his ass. Thermite let out a breathy laugh and looked down at Thatcher with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Thermite stilled his movements and watched the other man squirm beneath him.

“Jordan...” Thatcher pleaded, his voice rough with need. “Let me up, love.” Thermite leaned in close, just enough to brush their lips together, before he pulled away. Thatcher groaned.

“Play nice.” Thermite kissed him beneath his chin and delighted in the sound of his labored breaths, the saltiness of his skin, the feel of his pulse on his tongue.

“Tease,” Thatcher huffed but indulged him. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as he gave in. This was a side of his lover that he rarely got to see, and when it did come out it was a delight indeed. He let him take what he needed. Thermite kissed him deeply, almost possessively, his tongue finding Thatcher’s. The Brit enticed him, drawing out a soft whimper from his lover as he took over the kiss. Thermite submitted to him willingly. He groaned. Thermite’s grip was loosening. Thatcher had him right where he wanted him.

Finally, Thermite released his wrists to cup his face and Thatcher’s hands were on him immediately, fingers digging into the flesh of his hips while he ravaged his mouth. Thermite was sure there’d be two nice bruises there in the morning, counted on it, even. He let out a long groan as Thatcher tugged on his bottom lip. Thermite pushed his trousers the rest of the way down and let them fall to the floor.

Thatcher was impatient now. He sat up and reached over to grab something from the drawer in his nightstand. The Brit squeezed a healthy amount of lube onto his fingers before setting the bottle aside. Thermite’s body buzzed in anticipation. Two fingers entered him at once and he clutched the back of Thatcher’s shirt and moaned. Thatcher fucked him with his fingers, stretching his hole in preparation for what was to come. Eventually Thatcher pulled his fingers out. Thermite whined in frustration.

“Be patient, darling,” Thatcher said as he reached for the bottle again to lube himself up. Thermite’s breath hitched when he felt the head of Thatcher’s cock pressing against him.

Thatcher’s cock stretched him as it entered him. Despite the preparations, they had taken it still stung, but it wasn’t all unpleasant. Thatcher mumbled words of encouragement into his ear. He took it all. Thermite moaned in delight when he topped off and Thatcher’s cock pressed against his prostate. He rolled his hips experimentally and got a feel for it. He bit his lip when the tip of Thatcher’s cock brushed against his prostate again.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Thatcher moaned. He grinned, bracing himself on the bed and raised his hips slow. Thatcher let out a low groan and slid his hands onto Thermite’s ass.

“Ah fuck, Mike,” He grabbed onto Thatcher’s shoulders and lowered himself back down on his dick. He started up a slow rhythm as he adjusted to the feeling of Thatcher being inside of him.

“You feel so good, darling,” Thatcher said breathily. Thermite sped up his pace and Thatcher thrust his hips up to meet him halfway. His movements lost all sense of rhythm. He buried his face in the crook of Thatcher’s neck and moaned without restraint. Thatcher smacked his ass and he let out a whine that sounded so desperate and needy he thought the sound had come from someone else. He could tell he was getting close. Thatcher’s wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked him hard and fast. “That’s it, love... Come for me. Yes, _yes_ —”

Thermite squeezed around him as he came onto Thatcher’s chest, cheeks flushed and mouth agape in bliss with his name on his lips. For a moment his vision went black before fading back in. With a few more thrusts Thatcher followed right behind him, filling him with his load.

Thermite collapsed on top of him, his body relaxed and loose. He didn’t think he could move even if he wanted to. Thatcher pressed a lazy kiss into his shoulder as he ran his hands along his back. He urged him to get up anyway so he could clean up the mess they had made. Soon after Thermite had fallen asleep, his soft breaths warm against Thatcher’s chest. The older man brushed a stray hair from his face as he watched him.

“I love you, darling.” Thatcher said softly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to drop by and say hello at my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cleverly_not) or my [Tumblr](https://jes-jones.tumblr.com/)! Feedback is much appreciated.


End file.
